


Marked in Black

by SugarsweetRomantic



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, M/M, Multi, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 15:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17046104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic
Summary: Everyone has a black mark on their skin where their soulmate will first touch them.Everyone...except Lucy Preston.





	Marked in Black

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: very brief non-graphic mention of sexual assault. Skippable.  
> To skip: stop reading at the first triple asterisk (***), resume after the break (***).

‘Everyone has a mark, so where's yours?’ 

It had been the non-stop cycle of Lucy’s life. No-one had believed her at first: everyone had a pitch-black spot on their skin where their soulmate would first touch them. Her mother's was on her forearm - Henry had grabbed her in the supermarket when she had almost fallen over. Amy’s had been on her knuckles. She had always been terrified she would punch her soulmate until one day she came home squealing. She wasn't exactly sure when, but her knuckles had brushed against someone else's on the train, and now they were all colours of the rainbow. 

Lucy didn't have a mark. She had searched every square inch of her skin. Carol had sent her to multiple specialists; she had been the subject of over a dozen clinical case studies. It had driven her insane until she finally turned eighteen and had decided she was done with all the doctors; all the contrast scans; all the bloodwork; the scratch tests; the psychological analyses; the obsession. She threw herself into her studies, figuring that if she would never have a soulmate, she might as well make use of her brain. She couldn’t ever have a romantic partner; she would never be able to justify taking away someone else’s right to their soulmate. So, she studied, and she got some human physical contact from Amy, and that was it.

When she was recruited for Mason Industries’ Lifeboat Project, she was unsure of what the others would say when they saw her. Turns out, they didn't say anything, because they were all much too busy with trying to stay in control of the spacetime fiasco to focus on trivial things. Lucy was highly aware of their marks though. Not having any herself meant she always noticed them. Denise’s was multiple tones of blue and cyan on the top of her right foot. Rufus and Jiya shared the same colours on their right palms. Connor had a still-black mark on the inside of the fingers of his left hand, and Wyatt...his was on his forearm, but it was greyscale. Death. After their first mission, he told her it had once been shades of green and yellow. Apparently, Jess had always complained it was impossible to match clothing to. 

Flynn...his was greyscale too. It was made up out of fingerprints on the back of his left hand. More death. 

When she looked at both of them, she figured that maybe she was better off being the way she was. There was no-one out there for her, but at least that meant she didn’t have to experience the loss some others had.

The second time she met Flynn, she realised he didn’t just have the greyscale fingerprints on his hand. There was a new mark, black spots on his fingertips. She had seen people with ones like his before, but then again, so many people had similar marks - one in ten people had theirs on their right palm because they would shake hands with their eventual soulmate. It must be hard, she decided, seeing a new mark appear after your first mate had passed away. Knowing that the laws of nature were basically telling you that you had to move on. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” Lucy asked one night in Flynn’s room, while they were both doing a very good job at making the contents of a bottle of vodka disappear. When he didn’t object, she continued: “When did you get your second mark?” A deep sigh followed, and Flynn remained silent for a while before softly replying: “When you gave me the journal. I woke up the next morning with my hand like...this.” He spread his fingers, showing her both his grey and black markings.

“What was your first touch like? Did it hurt?” Lucy inquired, sitting up so she could see them better. No-one in her life had ever had a grey mark before, and she had never been able to ask anyone about theirs. Flynn seemed slightly more open about his than Wyatt. He chuckled, shaking her head.

“No, not at all. It was...maybe ‘soothing’ is the best way to describe it. I...I was in the hospital with meningitis, and she was the nurse who inserted an IV.” He smiled. “My headache was so bad I couldn’t even see it, but I just...knew.” 

“It must be magical,” Lucy commented before she realised it.

“I’m sure you’ll experience it someday,” Flynn reassured her. “Some lucky bastard,” he added with a wink.  _ Shit _ . He hadn’t realised. Lucy shook her head.

“I don’t have a mark.”

“What do you mean, you don’t have a mark? Everyone has a mark!” Flynn exclaimed, suddenly studying her form intently. ******* “Lucy...if it’s in a private spot, you know you don’t  _ have  _ to stay with your mate, right?” Oh God, now he was assuming she was trying to hide a mark on her breasts or her thighs, or worse. She had heard of women - and men - with those, having to live their lives in fear that their freaking  _ soulmate  _ might do something awful to them. Her maternal grandmother had apparently had two handprints on her chest, but her grandfather had been a doctor. He had saved her life with CPR, but it could have been much worse.

***

“No, Flynn...I don’t have a mark. Nowhere. Trust me, I’ve been through enough tests. I have no mark.”

“I’ve never seen anyone without one,” he whispered, staring at her like she was some sort of oddity. Damn it, she should have just lied, just like she had in high school, telling her classmates hers was on her ribs. 

“I’m just going to leave now,” Lucy muttered, her eyes on the floor. She couldn’t stand another second of being subjected to his...his...disappointment?

 

When Jessica was suddenly alive again, no-one knew what was going to happen to Wyatt’s mark. The one thing they hadn’t expected though, was that it would just...disappear. It was gone and replaced by small black markings on his fingertips. After he had escaped to go find her, they all assumed he would return with new colourings.

He did return. With Jess. But without colour. The fingertips of both of his hands were now black, though, Lucy realised. Jess had a palmprint on her collarbone. They didn’t match. 

Wyatt was heartbroken.

 

For a short while, Lucy entertained the option that maybe Flynn and Wyatt’s marks matched up, but they had touched each other before, and nothing had changed.

 

“Hey Connor?” Lucy asked the engineer just as the credits rolled on  _ Christine _ \- sometimes it was really nice to be able to watch a movie in its original language with someone, and Mason’s grasp of French was just good enough to be able to follow the story, albeit with some help from Lucy every now and again. At least in older movies, people didn’t mumble as much. 

“Hm?” he replied, slowly sipping his tea.

“Do you think you’ll ever find your soulmate?” 

“I’d rather not,” he responded, staring at the screen. She could tell he had tensed up all of a sudden.

“Why not?”

“Because I…” He sighed. “I’m not attracted to people the way I... _ should _ be, I suppose.” 

“Well...maybe neither is your mate?”

“I sure hope so, for their sake.”

 

After the fiasco in Chinatown, everything had gone to absolute shit. Rufus was gone, and Jiya was left without her soulmate, her mark turning a positively terrifyingly dark shade of grey. Connor had locked himself in his room, trying to figure out how to get him back. Denise was busy arranging psychological help for Jiya. And Lucy...she was currently trying to find a way she could brush her hair without aggravating her bruises and cuts that Emma had left her. 

“Need some help?” Looking up, she saw Wyatt standing in the doorway. Smiling gratefully, she nodded. He stepped inside, taking the brush from her and carefully began combing through the tangle of black hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered when she winced at a sudden pull. 

“It’s okay,” she replied, reaching behind her to touch his elbow. “I appreciate it.”

“Want me to braid it for you?” he asked when he was finished.

“Do you even know how to do that?” she replied jokingly. When he hesitated, she giggled. “It’s okay. A ponytail works too.”

“Braiding is not hard, Logan,” Flynn suddenly announced. He was leaning against the doorframe, apparently observing them both. “I used to do it for Iris all the time. Here,” he continued, approaching them. Looking at Lucy in the mirror, he asked: “May I?” Lucy nodded and watched as Wyatt held up his hands and let Flynn take over. 

“Alright, show me then,” the younger man challenged him. Flynn shook his head, and she could feel him part her hair. His touch felt soothing, and Lucy closed her eyes.

“You divide the hair into three sections like so,” Flynn explained, his voice softer than just seconds before. “And then you cross the outer over the middle. And then the other side, all the way down. Here, you try.” The moment she felt the confident grasp on her hair change into a more hesitant one, Lucy knew Wyatt had taken over one side. Flynn was still holding the other. Why they suddenly gasped, though, she didn’t know.

“What the…” Wyatt announced. “Lucy, I…” His outstretched hand appeared in her field of vision, and to her surprise, his marks had turned into the most beautiful shades of burgundy, navy blue and a pastel lilac she had ever seen. Much slower, Flynn’s hand appeared on her other side, and his had the same colours. Smiling, she turned to face both men.

“Congratulations,” she whispered.

“I…” Flynn began, shaking his head. “Lucy... _dušo_. _.. _ look in the mirror.” He gently grasped her shoulders and spun her back around.

“What?”

All of a sudden, delicate lines of colour trickled through her braid.

“I guess you have a mark after all.”


End file.
